


Distraction

by TortillaGuy



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awesome Pepper Potts, Fluff, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 18:45:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19836313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TortillaGuy/pseuds/TortillaGuy
Summary: Peter must distract Tony for four hours while his birthday party is set up, but during the four hours, Tony realizes Peter needs some things.





	Distraction

Peter smiled to himself as he paced down the corridor leading into Tony’s private residence. He pushed the door open and waved to Steve and Natasha, who were bickering over where the streamers should go. He ducked under a crate of plastic plates that Bruce was carrying, and strode over to Pepper, who was delegating roles to a group. She noticed him and passed a pack of balloons to someone, then turned and put a hand on his shoulder.  
“Peter! You’re here! Are you ready?” Peter nodded. Pepper’s look became serious.  
“You know you have the most important job, right?” He smiled and stepped back towards the door.  
“I know, I know, I’ve gotta distract Mister Stark for long enough for you guys to get his party together. I’ve got it. I’m going out right now and I’m gonna call him. Where’d you say he was?”  
“He’s getting out of a meeting. You need to call him and ask him to go somewhere with you. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter; we just need him out of here for at least four hours.”  
“Are you sure he’ll just drop everything and follow me around town for no reason, Ms. Potts? Shouldn’t I come up with something important?” Pepper smiled.  
“Trust me, just tell him you want to have lunch with him or something and he’ll come running. He loves spending time with you.” Peter brought his hands through his hair to hide his blush.  
“Mmm, okay, Ms. Potts… uh, well I’ve gotta go, uh… see you later?” Peter waved and dashed off to the elevator, his face turning red. Pepper laughed and watched him go, then returned to inspecting balloon colors.  
Peter stepped outside the tower and decided to get a few blocks away before calling Tony. He fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed his mentor’s number while walking. It picked up on the first ring.  
“Hey kid, what’s up?” Tony’s voice was tired, and had a trace of lingering annoyance in it. Peter knew it wasn’t because of him--Tony was always that way after meetings.  
“Hey, Mister Stark. I was just walking around, and, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to… have a late lunch or something?” Peter cringed at how awkward he sounded, but Tony’s voice brightened.  
“Yeah, of course, Peter. It’d be nice to speak to someone with a brain for a change. You’ll never believe the day I’ve had, but I guess I can tell you all that over lunch. I’ll come get you. Where are you at?” Peter gave him his location, slightly surprised that it actually worked.  
He leaned against a building until Tony’s car pulled up in front of him mere minutes later. He pulled the door open and climbed in.  
“You’ve been standing outside, in New York, in the winter, in that?” Tony asked incredulously.  
“What?” Peter asked, looking down at what he was wearing. He certainly hadn’t been expecting that sort of greeting. He had on the same red hoodie he’d worn since he was in seventh grade.  
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”  
“For starters,” Tony said, pulling into the street, “It’s paper thin. And it looks like someone ate a five course meal on top of it. And it looks like it got an appendectomy.”  
Peter ran his fingers over the stitched up pocket. He guessed it was a little stained, but so what? It still did its job.  
“Are you starving right now or can we take a detour to get you decent clothes?” Peter’s eyes shot up in surprise. He couldn’t seem to figure out if Tony had actually said that or not. Tony glanced over.  
“Well?”  
“I, uh, I mean, you don’t have to… my clothes are fine, they’re just--”  
“I’ve seen pretty much everything in your wardrobe by this point, kid, and let me tell you, your clothes are not suited for winter. One good snowstorm and you’ll have hypothermia, even wearing everything you own. Especially with your… what is it? Thermoregulatory… thing, you need good, warm clothes. And I’ll buy them for you. Unless you want to eat lunch first.” Peter couldn’t do anything but stare, mouth-open, at the side of Tony’s face.  
“Since when is silence your thing, kid? Come on.”  
Peter leaned back into the seat.  
“Uh, okay, Tony. If you’re sure you wanna drive me there, that is, I mean, I have some money in my wallet,” Peter said, eyes still open wide.  
“No, no, you’ll need more than twenty bucks for where I’m taking you, so I’ll cover it.”  
Peter nodded slowly, not hearing much.  
“Okay.”

~~~

Thirty minutes later the two of them stood in what Peter decided was the Four Seasons of clothing stores. He stood uncomfortably, fidgeting his hands and trying not to touch anything, while Tony pulled coats and pants off of racks and held them up for inspection. Every “Do you like these?” and “How about this?” was met with a nervous smile and a shrug from Peter.  
“I don’t need a ton of clothes,” Peter spoke up after Tony put yet another jacket in his arms, “Just get whatever’s cheapest and I’ll wear it all the time.”  
“Yeah, I know that’s been your method, but when your one T-shirt has taco stains on it a week after you ate them, there’s a problem. Go try these on. I’ll find some jeans in your size.”  
An hour later, they had finished and Peter held more clothes in his arms at once than he’d ever owned. He choked when they all rang up to an ungodly amount, but without missing a beat, Tony pulled out his card and swiped it.  
After they’d staggered back to the car and loaded up the winter wardrobe, Tony pulled out and turned up the radio.  
“Where to for lunch?”  
Peter glanced at the pile of bags in the back to be sure he hadn’t hallucinated what just happened.  
“Uh, wherever you want, Mister Stark.”  
They came to a red light and Tony stretched.  
“Italian?”  
“Sure. I’m good with anything.” Peter checked his phone. Two hours left to keep him distracted. Peter hoped the nearest Italian restaurant was a decent distance away. He wasn’t sure if he could eat lunch for two hours.  
“Oh, I forgot to tell you about the meeting. I swear, I was about to tell them to shove it and just walk out. You should see the way they’ve been managing the line. I should’ve told them to not get so comfortable, since now there’s someone I’d give all their jobs to in a heartbeat.”  
“Who’s that, Mister Stark?” Peter asked, half listening, half trying to figure out the slowest possible way to eat a plate of spaghetti. Tony laughed, which caught Peter’s attention. He turned to his mentor.  
“What’s so funny?” he asked.  
“Seriously, kid?” he asked. Peter’s face was blank. Tony rolled his eyes.  
“It’s you. I’d give you their jobs in a heartbeat. You’d do all of them better, and with a lot more common sense, too.” The rest came out as a grumble in complaint of his employees, but Peter felt himself blush. He wanted to tell Tony how much that meant to him, but at that moment, they reached the restaurant.

~~~

Peter’s plan to stretch out lunch to a two-hour ordeal fell through as soon as he tasted his food and remembered he had skipped dinner yesterday. He polished off the plate without coming up for air as Tony stared, half in awe that a human could eat like that, half in fear that Peter hadn’t eaten recently.  
“Hey, kid,” Tony said when Peter had finished his plate and started in on his drink, “When was the last time you ate?”  
Peter already knew the answer, but he pretended to think about it.  
“Uh, lunchtime yesterday?” he said, looking into his glass.  
“Why?” Tony asked, putting down his fork.  
“Well, May was working late and I just sorta forgot. It’s fine, though. I’ve gone longer without eating.” Peter winced as he realized this was the wrong thing to say.  
“What do you mean, ‘It’s fine’? You’re gonna stunt your growth if you don’t eat. And why are you going so long without food? Isn’t there enough in your apartment?” Tony’s look made it clear he wasn’t going to take silence for an answer. It was part concerned, part angry, part… fatherly?  
“I, well… May keeps the fridge stocked and everything, but I’m always hungry and it just doesn’t seem fair to her to eat that much, okay? She works hard to afford what we have, and she deserves to have it as easy as possible, so sometimes I just skip meals when she’s not around. It’s no big deal.” Tony’s face contorted into shock, then disbelief, and then realization. His voice softened.  
“Peter, May loves you and she wants you to be happy, and, y’know, fed, so I wouldn’t worry about being a burden like that. You’re not. And, if you ever think there’s not enough for the two of you, just call me, kid. I’ll take the both of you out for more food than you could eat in a month. Got it?” Peter brought his eyes to meet Tony’s, and then smiled.  
“I got it, Mister Stark.”  
“Good. Now, you want more spaghetti?” Tony signaled the waiter.

~~~

An hour and a half later, the two pulled up to the tower. Peter dashed out of the car before Tony could open the door, and ran to the elevator.  
“Sorry, Mister Stark, I’ve gotta… check on something.” He hit the button and the doors closed. Tony rolled his eyes.  
“Disrespected in my own home,” he muttered with a smile.  
Peter stepped out of the elevator.  
“Whoa,” he said. Pepper approached him, grinning.  
“I think we did a good job,” she said.  
“That might be the understatement of the century, Ms. Potts.” The entire room was dressed to the nines, with the Avengers sitting on a sofa in the center.  
“Is Tony here yet? We finished early and we’ve been waiting forever,” Steve said.  
“You could’ve texted me that. I spent thirty minutes naming as many types of pasta as I could think of,” Peter said, taking a seat among them. Steve was about to say something else when the elevator opened again. Tony slowly stepped out, taking off his sunglasses.  
“What in the--Pepper, what is this?” he asked, taking Pepper’s hand, a grin creeping into the corners of his mouth.  
“Happy birthday, Mister Stark!” Peter shouted before Pepper could respond.  
“Did you guys spend all day setting this up?” he asked. Everyone in the room nodded.  
“Ah, that would explain the half hour of pasta names,” he said, mussing up Peter’s hair.  
The party went on for three hours before Peter yawned and laid down on the loveseat. Tony smiled when he saw him, and went over to pull a blanket over him.  
“I’m just resting my eyes, Mister Stark,” Peter said softly.  
“Sure you are, kid.” Tony leaned in.  
“Thanks for a great day, Peter.”


End file.
